"Yes, I am sorry to say," she replied, laughing at his consternation, "with the money in it. I did not like to come back yesterday, for fear you would scold me." "You lost it yesterday, then?" "Yes, within an hour of my leaving your office." "How on earth did it happen?" "In the simplest manner possible. You were quite right, Mr. Holdfast, in saying that I did not know the roguery of human nature. I was standing at a cake shop, looking in at the window--I am so fond of cakes!--and two little girls and a woman were standing by my side. The children were talking--they would like this cake, they would like that--and such a many round O's fell from their lips that I could not help being amused. Poor little things! They looked very hungry, and I quite pitied them. Some one tapped my left shoulder, and I turned round to see who it was--when, would you believe it?--your purse, which was in my right hand, was snatched from me like lightning. And the extraordinary part of the affair is, that I saw no one behind me, nor any person except the woman and two children within yards of me!" She related the particulars of the robbery as though it had not happened to her and did not affect her, but some stranger who had plenty of money, and would not feel the loss. "What did you do?" asked Mr. Holdfast. "I laughed. I couldn't help it--it was so clever! Of course I looked about me, but that did not bring back your purse. Then I took the poor children into the cake shop, and treated them to cakes, and had some myself, and gave them what money remained of my three shillings and sixpence, and sent them home quite happy." "And left yourself without a penny?" said Mr. Holdfast, almost overcome with delight, as he afterwards told her, at her childish innocence, simplicity and kindness. "Yes," she replied, overjoyed that he did not scold her, "I left myself without a penny." "You will have to buy me another purse," he said. The young lady exhibited her own little fairy porte-monnaie, and turned it out--there was not a sixpence in it. "You must give me some money to do it with," she said. "You are not fit to be trusted with money," he said; "I really am puzzled what to do with you." Upon this she burst into tears; her helpless position, and his goodness and tenderness, overcame her. "If you cry like that," he said softly, "I shall never forgive myself."